Hoof beats sounded behind Xan. He leaned forward and tightened his legs on the horse’s side. Honey surged.
Xan concentrated on the hilt of the man’s sword. Heat flowed into it like water circling a drain and disappeared into a lake of magic. All temperature drained from the man’s hands. Ice crystals formed on his fingers and on the blade.
Not thirty yards from Xan, the guardsman’s face flashed surprise before contorting in pain. His fingers flexed, trying to unclench the sword, but the hilt stuck tight. He shook the weapon, and the blade tumbled loose. A chunk of the man’s hand fell with it.
Metal clanked to the ground and shattered. Shards of shiny steel and frozen, mutilated flesh showered the dirt. The guardsman stared at his misshapen hand through a face masked with horror.
Xan bore directly at him.
The guardsman tore his gaze from his deformity at the sound of the five thundering horses. With only feet to spare, he dove to the side.
Xan snarled at him. “We have a queen, you rads-infested trash!” He pulled hard on Honey’s reins and waved for the others to pass.
Lainey glared hatred at him.
The sentry collapsed and thrashed about with his mangled hand held tight to his chest. Shimmering red clusters littered the area.
Bile rose in Xan’s throat. Maybe she had the right of it. He followed after the others as soon as the last one cleared the fallen guard.
A few hundred yards later, Ashley waved him forward. At least he’d finally done something right. Maybe she’d actually compliment him. He eased Honey into a gap between her and Brant.
Ashley’s nostrils flared. “You imbecile. I could have been killed.”
Xan flinched. What?
She spoke through clenched teeth. “You’re lucky they didn’t have an ambush set up like Brant warned you. A stray arrow could have hit me, and you just charge ahead as if you know what you’re doing? If you ever again put me in danger with your irresponsible behavior, my father will decorate the castle wall with your head.”
He shrank from her. “Ashley—”
She huffed and glared at him through stony eyes.
Oh. Right. Title. “My Lady Ashley, I …” Xan slumped his shoulders. “I have no excuse. Please forgive me.” He’d never be able to please her. Why should he try?
“Tread lightly. This is the last of your incompetence I’ll stand.”
Xan clutched impotently at the reins. He couldn’t face her anymore and slunk off to the rear of the line. She hated him. Justav would probably catch them before they reached the garrison. What was the point of continuing?
Stop that! He wouldn’t give up. Just a little further to safety.
Every few minutes, he glanced at the road behind them. No riders. No dust plume. No sign of the guardsmen.
A couple of hours later, he relaxed a bit. Maybe they’d actually make it.
Less than a hundred yards further down the road, Spear started limping. Brant stopped and dismounted.
Xan rode from the end of the line. “What now?”
Brant examined Spear’s right foreleg. He tapped the bottom of the hoof starting from the front. The horse tried to pull away when Brant reached the back. “He’s hurt. There’s a stone bruise on his frog.”
A what bruise where? Xan almost asked before deciding he didn’t really care. “Can he continue?”
“He can’t carry a rider, so I’ll have to double with someone. And we’ll be slowed to a walk for Spear to keep up.”
“We don’t have time!” Xan glanced back. “They could top that rise at any moment.”
“What else can we do?”
“Leave the stupid horse. Tie him in the woods or something.”
Brant let out a long, slow breath. “Guess they wouldn’t bother a hurt horse, and we can come back for him.” He gently pulled Spear’s reins. “C’mon buddy.”
Xan offered to let Brant ride with him, but besides the fact that Honey couldn’t support their combined weight, his friend had better options. Ashley giggled as Brant wrapped his hands around her waist and whispered in her ear.
Fighting a sudden compulsion to light the forest on fire, Xan turned his head from the couple. He fell to the back once again and rode there alone.
With the doubled-up riders, Ashley’s horse rode even slower than Honey, and the road’s winding prevented Xan from seeing more than a couple of furlongs behind him.
They topped a rise, and the way ahead lay straight for several miles. Xan faced backward more often than forward as they rode down the hill. With each step, he hoped fervently that Justav wouldn’t appear.
A cloud of dust rose above the road behind them. The guardsmen.
Xan tracked their relative movement for a minute and did some quick calculations. If the garrison was more than a couple of miles away, his group would never make it to safety.
He urged Honey forward until he reached Ashley and Brant. “Faster! They’re behind us.”
As Ashley dug her heels into the horse’s side, Brant shouted, “The garrison can’t be far!”
“It better be around that curve!”
With the other three following close behind, they lowered their heads. The horses responded with a burst of speed.
They approached the bend. Xan glanced behind. The dust cloud grew closer.
On the other side of the curve, the road straightened for a short stretch before a hill. Xan’s breath caught. Unbroken lines of trees stretched endlessly. He sat back in the saddle, slowing Honey. As good a place as any for him to make a stand. Just had to hold out long enough for the others to make it.
As Xan prepared to stop and turn, Brant reached the top of the rise and called, “The garrison!”
Less than a half mile away, a palisade stood as a beacon of safety with mammoth timbers bared of bark and branches, and, minutes later, they stopped outside the wall. Xan looked back. Justav’s men rounded the bend.
The fort’s gate remained closed.
51.
A mass of black-clad men on huge horses thundered toward Xan.
Should he burn them? Would even that stop them all in time?
Xan doubted it. If he and his friends didn’t get inside the fort in the next couple of minutes, they were doomed.
Ashley cupped her hands around her mouth. “Open in the name of my father, Duke Asher!”
A helmeted head poked above the tapered logs of the palisade. The plump face of a wide-eyed boy peered from beneath oversized steel headgear. His mouth gaped as he looked from Ashley to the rapidly approaching armored men.
“Don’t just stand there, you dolt!” Ashley’s face reddened. “Open the gate!”
The boy’s lips moved, but the charging horses drowned his words. His gaze rotated between the sights below him and something behind the wall. Indecision ruled his face. Fortunately, another head appeared—one with creases around the eyes and a full, curly beard with touches of gray.
“Daniel, you idiot!” the newcomer yelled. “That’s Lady Ashley.”
Both heads disappeared, and a bell clanged. Seconds later, the gate shot up to hang suspended from two thick ropes. Ashley and Brant bolted into the fort. Dylan, ushering Lainey and Marisol, followed quickly. The portcullis crashed down behind Xan, last of the group, as soon as Honey cleared the threshold.
Soldiers poured like ants from three buildings. Most grabbed spears and bows and arrows stacked at the foot of the stairs and hustled up a steep incline to a platform running along the top of the wall. The rest bared their blades and surrounded the party.
Xan tensed. Were these soldiers their salvation or yet another threat? Everything depended on Ashley, and he had no idea what she would do.
“Fools! It’s the niskma,” the bearded man called down. “Lower your weapons!”
The soldiers dipped their blades but still stood alert. Behind them, the door of the middle building swung open, and a tall man with a full white mustache stepped out.
“Sergeant Pruitt!” Brant yelled.
<
br /> Pruitt looked over the group, his eyebrows arching when he saw Ashley. “Sheath your weapons.”
The soldiers surrounding Xan and his friends scrambled to put their swords away as Pruitt marched toward the party. Shouts sounded from outside the wall.
“Williams, report!” Pruitt called to the older man on the wall.
“Twenty-one armed riders outside.”
“Are those the curs that kidnapped Lady Ashley?” Pruitt said.
Brant turned to Xan, and Pruitt followed his gaze.
“No.” Xan’s heart pounded. How to handle the situation? A parley was surely coming, and the first words out of Justav’s mouth would expose a lie. “They’re after me. A catcher and his men.”
Pruitt scanned him from shoes to curly mop of hair. “I see.” He spat. “And they’ve got the wrong man, of course.”
Xan met the soldier’s eyes. Too many people—Ashley included—knew about his abilities. Best to establish honesty from the start. Right? “No.” A discarded chunk of firewood on the ground in front of the sergeant burst into a fireball. “I’m quite guilty.”
Marisol gasped, and the soldiers surrounding the group drew their weapons once again.
Ashley looked irritated. “Sergeant, these men rescued me.”
The commotion outside the wall grew louder.
“In the name of my father, I order you to provide us—all of us—with protection.” Ashley glared at Xan. “For now.”
How much authority did she really have? The sergeant could decide whatever he wanted and face consequences from the duke later.
Pruitt never looked away from Xan’s eyes. “Your word that you’re no danger? To the lady or my men?”
“I would never hurt the lady, and I have no quarrel with you or your men.”
An agitated voice pierced the logs. “Open this gate at once! I have a warrant signed by the king to pursue my charges, and I will not be denied.”
“We have a queen, you unmitigated moron,” Xan muttered.
Pruitt’s face hardened. “Men! I ordered your weapons sheathed.”
A blur of activity followed as metal scraped into leather scabbards.
“With your permission, my lady, I’d prefer to meet this catcher face-to-face.”
Xan almost objected. Justav was probably a mage, so letting him inside was a horrible idea. But how to convince Pruitt of that? Xan didn’t exactly have a lot of credibility built up, and there was no proof beyond what he and his friends sensed. He’d just have to watch Justav closely.
At a nod from Ashley, Pruitt said, “Williams! Tell this catcher that he and one of his men can enter.”
The soldier yelled, and shouts from outside answered him. While Xan’s group dismounted and handed their horses to squires, Williams ordered the gate raised. Two smooth-faced men winched up a counterweight, and after they locked it into place, Williams threw a lever sending the rock crashing to the ground and raising the portcullis.
Justav and a slight guardsman strode under the iron bars and marched straight to the group. He used a long string of titles and appellations to introduce himself, barely allowing Pruitt to get his name out in return before launching into his spiel, “I commend you on apprehending these dangerous renegades.”
Pruitt spat. “Careful on how you speak about Lady Ashley.”
Justav dipped his head toward her. “I cast no dispersions on the niskma, of course, but others may question the company she keeps.” He pointed at Xan. “That one is an alchemist who escaped lawful custody, leaving a pair of my men incapacitated and another two missing.”
The two guardsmen at the jail accounted for the first of those, and he probably hadn’t found Keller in that alley. But what explained the other missing man?
“Just a day ago, they left four more of my guardsmen severely injured.” He glared at Xan. “I’d love to know which of these criminals accomplished that feat, but the men had to be sedated before I could properly question them.”
Ashley stared at him with appraising eyes. He shrugged. She’d probably find some reason to be mad at him about thwarting the ambush. More importantly, why did Justav say that he didn’t know who had taken out the guardsmen?
“As an emissary of King Barius, I demand you release the three boys and that girl—” Justav pointed at Lainey “—to my custody.”
Xan’s stomach tied into knots. Why wouldn’t Pruitt turn the group over to the catcher? Justav had the law on his side, and the sergeant had to be uncomfortable with letting a mage accompany the duke’s daughter. Only the unknown strength of Ashley’s favor protected Xan and his friends. Why had they decided on running to the garrison?
Oh. Yeah. Maybe it had something to do with their complete lack of options.
“The problem with your ‘demand’—” Pruitt spat again “—is my orders. I’m to find and return Lady Ashley to Duke Asher. Since she’s placed these kids under her personal protection, I don’t have a choice but to bring them along.” He stared at Justav with a stony expression. “My hands are tied.”
Justav’s face turned a brilliant crimson. “Orders from my king supersede a mere duke’s.”
“With all due respect, sir,” Pruitt said, “I take my orders from that duke and from my queen, and I’ll be escorting this group to Asherton. Those with a much higher pay grade than mine will make any decisions. I expect, though, you’ll be given a chance to make your case.”
“Sergeant, I demand—”
“You can demand until the sheep are sheared,” Pruitt said, “but I reckon it won’t do you much good.”
The soldiers’ faces bespoke grim determination. Grips on swords and bows tightened.
Justav’s shoulders slumped. “That does seem to be the prudent course of action. I and my men will be allowed to follow?”
He knew Xan to be a mage and had to suspect Ashley and at least one of the others as well. The presence of at least three mages didn’t faze Justav until the garrison’s soldiers were added to the mix against him. What were his limits?
Pruitt nodded. “At a couple of hours distance. Excepting a scout of course.”
Justav inclined his head at Ashley and turned toward the gate, his henchman in tow.
Xan rushed after them. “I’m not the weakling you met in Eagleton. You’ll not take me quietly.”
Justav shook his head ruefully. “You’re an untrained infant playing with powers you don’t understand, and my duty is to bring you to task for it.”
Implying that “trained” mages existed and that he—or his men—was such? That slip confirmed a conspiracy.
Xan smiled coldly. “What’s stopping me from burning you to a pile of embers?” He ignited a waist-high flame from a clump of grass at the catcher’s feet.
Justav didn’t even flinch.
“Unless you have a magical way to combat me?” Xan said. “How are you going to explain to the duke how you escaped that cave?”
“Watch yourself, boy. Each word earns more suffering for you and your friends. Give up now and save them pain.”
Xan gritted his teeth. As if he’d give that blowhard the satisfaction.
“Consider it seriously, boy.” Justav sneered. “I will perform my duty—” he scanned Lainey’s body and laughed—“but I might be persuaded to forego some of the perks.”
Xan snarled but otherwise held himself in check. Justav was obviously provoking him.
“You kill people due to an accident of their birth,” Xan said. “Calling murder a duty excuses nothing.”
“Bermau digs the ground and finds gold. Riches pour from the oceans into Kaicia. You think all nations are as lucky? Duty to kingdom and to family supersedes all.” With his guard following, Justav stormed off.
Xan stroked his chin, considering. The move against Vierna had to be a play by Dastanar. He turned.
And almost ran over Ashley.
“What am I going to do with you?” she said.
Huh? Had he done something new to make her mad? Probably. He had take
n multiple breaths since she’d last had the opportunity to berate him.
“Most of the time,” she said, “you’re so incompetent I can’t believe you’d ever be a threat to anyone. Other times, you appear too dangerous to let you anywhere near my lord father’s presence.”
Xan didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. Protecting her and her father was exactly what he was trying to do, but how to convince her of that?
“The only rationale for not turning you over to that odious catcher is that you played a small role in rescuing me.”
He would not react to her baiting him. He would not react to her baiting him.
“Your constant displays of magic, however,” she said, “make that reasoning less than compelling. Why should I not have you bound and tossed down from the wall?”
“My word?” How had that come out as a question?
“What word is that, exactly?”
“On my honor,” Xan said, “I will never harm you.”
“You said that earlier as well.” Ashley studied him. “And you’d have me believe it to be true. Your word is important to you?”
“Yes.” Better than admitting she was that important to him.
“Very well then.” Ashley demanded a sword from a nearby soldier. “We shall have a demonstration.”
At a gesture, two other soldiers grabbed him, one securing each of his shoulders. She pressed the blade against his stomach.
The metal dug into his flesh. Ouch. What the blast was she doing?
“I hold your life in my hand.” She smiled at him almost sweetly. “Do you believe that I might decide to end it?”
He meant nothing more to her than any peasant scurrying beneath her ivory tower. Killing him would be beneath her notice. She’d retire to her room for a spot of tea afterwards. Was she bloody insane?
Xan nodded.
“Now, a big, strong mage like you could easily overcome little old me.” She let the hilt roll lightly on her fingertips. “All you’d have to do is burn the leather I’m holding, and I’d be forced to drop the sword. Understand?”
He nodded again.
“But that wouldn’t be good. Even if it were the slightest pain—the briefest of ouchies—I’d be hurt, and it would be your fault. You’d have hurt me.” She grinned, her eyes cold.
Rise of the Mages (Rise of the Mages 2) Page 27